You Make Your Own Luck, Gig. You

For Her Everything Was Red, Orange, Gold-red From The Sun On The Closed Eyes, And It All Was That Color, All Of It, The Filling, The Possessing, The Having, All Of That Color, All In A Blindness Of That Color." - Ernest Hemingway.

I Don't Think I Ever Owned Twenty Pencils At One Time. Wearing Down Seven Number-two Pencils Is A Good Day's Work.

I Still Need More Healthy Rest In Order To Work At My Best. My Health Is The Main Capital I Have And I Want To Administer It Intelligently.

Write Drunk; Edit Sober.

Nobody Knows What's In Him Until He Tries To Pull It Out. If There's Nothing, Or Very Little, The Shock Can Kill A Man.